“You needn’t listen to me; needn’t look at me—unless you care to use my eyes as mirrors. Only let me be seen with you. That’s what I want. Not that your society isn’t a boon in itself, John. Oh, I’ve been so bored since I left you. The MacQuern is too, too dull, and so are his friends. Oh, that meal with them in Balliol! As soon as I grew used to the thought that they were going to die for me, I simply couldn’t stand them. Poor boys! it was as much as I could do not to tell them I wished them dead already. Indeed, when they brought me down for the first races, I did suggest that they might as well die now as later. Only they looked very solemn and said it couldn’t possibly be done till after the final races. And oh, the tea with them! What have YOU been doing all the afternoon? Oh John, after THEM, I could almost love you again. Why can’t one fall in love with a man’s clothes? To think that all those splendid things you have on are going to be spoilt—all for me. Nominally for me, that is. It is very wonderful, John. I do appreciate it, really and truly, though I know you think I don’t. John, if it weren’t mere spite you feel for me—but it’s no good talking about that. Come, let us be as cheerful as we may be. Is this the Judas house-boat?”
“The Judas barge,” said the Duke, irritated by a mistake which but yesterday had rather charmed him.
As he followed his companion across the plank, there came dully from the hills the first low growl of the pent storm. The sound struck for him a strange contrast with the prattle he had perforce been listening to.
“Thunder,” said Zuleika over her shoulder.
“Evidently,” he answered.
Half-way up the stairs to the roof, she looked round. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked.
He shook his head, and pointed to the raft in front of the barge. She quickly descended.
“Forgive me,” he said, “my gesture was not a summons. The raft is for men.”
“What do you want to do on it?”
“To wait there till the races are over.”